


Slave I

by Bittodeath



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Jango Fett, Come Inflation, Drug Withdrawal, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Marathon Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overstimulation, Porn, Sexual Slavery, Slave Anakin Skywalker, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: In another universe, Anakin wasn't freed and ultimately wound up as a sex-slave in Jabba's palace. In another universe, Jango Fett accidentally wins him at a game. In another universe, this is how Anakin gains his freedom.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	Slave I

**Author's Note:**

> The non-con is for Anakin/other characters while he is a slave. He is of age, but Jango refers to him as "boy" because he's still very young.

Jango’s day has been going from bad to worse by the hour. No caff left, heater dead five hours in, and just general clumsiness. So of course, when the hyperdrive quits on him, he’s not _that_ surprised. He curses a blue streak and redirects to the closest planet before he can either lose himself in space or explode in billions of particles, which _of course_ happens to be karking Tatooine.

It gets even worse once he arrives: no one has the part he needs to make reparations. No one but Jabba, who has everything you might want or need. Jango doesn’t want to deal with the disgusting slug, if only because the sleemo deals in slavery and Jango has had more than enough of that. Still, there is apparently no other choice but to negotiate with Jabba. Yet, today is obviously not his day. He decides he’ll try his luck after a night of sleep.

Jabba’s palace, when he gets there, is repulsive. He’s glad for his _beskar’gam_ , which is regulating his body temperature and avoiding him any nasty substance he might encounter. The majordomo lets him in without any form of complaint – Mandalorians are usually good business for the Hutts. He steels himself at the sight of the slaves milling about, at the beautiful dancers entertaining the crowd. Meets the eyes of a blue-eyed slave laying on the ground by Jabba’s platform, holding his weight on his forearms as a Duros fucks him brutally in plain sight. The man – boy? – barely twitches at the brutal assault, mostly looking bored out of his mind.

The Duros spills and pulls out and the slave kneels up, showing off a sculpted body adorned in gold, and blond curls spilling on his shoulders. Jabba laughs at the slave’s obvious scorn for the Duros, as the boy sits beside him and nestles against him, another slave coming forward and injecting him with something. Drugged to the gills, then, might explain the lack of reaction. There are thin chains of gold over his hips holding a bright red piece of cloth barely hiding his crotch and ass, a large golden collar around his neck, a chain connecting it to Jabba’s hand, and cuffs of the same gold around his wrists.

“Part”, Jabba orders, tugging roughly on the chain and jerking the slave’s head back.

Jango knows he should look away, especially since the slave is staring at him like this. Instead, he stays entranced, disgusted and horrified as the slave leans back against his Master, flips aside what little cloth is hiding him, and parts his legs to show off the mixed species’ spend leaking out of him and onto his golden thighs.  
Jabba laughs again.

“Good, good. I’m satisfied.”  
“You missed it”, someone says to him, and Jango nearly startles.  
“I missed what?”  
“Skywalker”, the Rhodian says, nodding to the slave who seems to be falling asleep. “No one but Jabba will be touching him for the next sixteen hours.” His lack of reaction prompts more from the Rhodian: “You didn’t know? You should stick around, then. When he comes down, instead of being sick, he’s so horny Jabba loans him out, or lends him to his favourites. He’s still good when he’s on the stuff, but Jabba doesn’t loan him then. Keeps him to his side.”

Jango feels a bit like throwing up, but he nods in thanks for the explanation. He’d better be out before the sixteen hours are up, because he doesn’t want to see that again.

“Didn’t exactly look horny to me”, he stills points out, because he can’t be the only one who has noticed the boy – Skywalker- ‘s bored expression.  
“He was about to crash, he’s always like that before he’s dosed again. Ertos doesn’t have the reputation of being a good lay, anyway – and from what I know, Skywalker isn’t allowed to come if it’s not Jabba touching him.”

This one is a talkative one and Jango is even more repulsed. He contemplates putting a blaster bolt through his head, but it would seriously hinder his efforts to get the piece he needs. The boy is sleeping like a cat, no longer staring back at him, when he bargains with Jabba. The price the Hutt crime lord asks for the part he needs is exorbitant, and he seems to know it.

It also happens that there is an exceptional Sabbacc game planned for that evening, and Jango really needs that part. Five hours later, he isn’t exactly sure how it all happened, but he _won_. Which is all fine and good because it means he got the part he needed – well, rather, he got a _second_ Firespray in no state to fly but with a working hyperdrive. He also won, and that’s more tricky, a full cargo of spice, an insane amount of credits, three endangered species he has no idea what to do with but that are thankfully small enough to fit on his ship, and most problematic, Jabba’s sex-slave.

“There are two doses”, the attendant settling everything tells him, “so you’ll have thirty-two hours before he’s completely off. Well, forty-two, really, considering his last dose. The last limit is three hours after he starts to come down, afterwards he gets dangerous.”  
“Dangerous? How so?”

The attendant smiles brilliantly.

“Force-sensitive slaves are worth more than their weight in gold, Fett. Well, the trained ones are worth much more, and this one is untrained, but he’s still dangerous when off the drugs.”

_Haar’chak_ they’ve given him a Force-sensitive sex-slave. One that wasn’t snatched up by the Jedi. He _really_ doesn’t know what he’s going to do with him. Well, Free him, but not on Tatooine. They’d enslave him back right away. Until then, he’ll need to share the tight quarters of Slave I with an untrained Force-sensitive who spent his whole life in slavery – three years at Gardulla’s, twelve at Watto’s, three in a brothel in Mos Espa, and then two here, at Jabba’s.

“The drugs affect his connection to the Force”, he says for confirmation.

The attendant nods, and gives him the remote slave ship command. He tucks it very carefully into his belt, to give Anakin as soon as can. Then, he packs up and goes to get his slave from the main room. Anakin has a cape draped around his shoulders, but that is the only concession to his outfit – that, and sandals. Jango refrains from cursing, and motions him to follow. He makes him sit on the hover-sledge with which he’s transporting the spice, and that he will use to transport the parts of the Firespray. Or, well, that is what he intends. Anakin doesn’t quite manage to sit, stumbling over his own feet.

There’s still seed dripping down his legs.

Jango curses under his helmet and braces to lift him in his arms and set him down on the sledge. The boy draws his legs back against his body.

“Thank you, Master”, he says, and Jango cringes.  
“Don’t call me that”, Jango replies. “I’m Jango.”

Anakin looks slightly confused for a second, but nods anyway. Jango takes them back to his ship, and ushers Anakin onto Slave I and to the sonic showers. That done, he starts to take the spice aboard, and gets the animals settled, before he starts to take the hyperdrive apart to replace it.

“If you do it like that you’ll break your fingers”, a voice says, and he startles.  
“Kriff, kid”, he swears.

Anakin has put on his slave outfit again. Jango isn’t even sure he took it off to shower. Anakin crouches beside him, showing off a lean, fit body, and Jango tears his eyes away. He realizes belatedly that the boy is toggling at something in his hyperdrive, pulling it out far swifter than Jango ever managed. He opens his mouth to protest, until he notices the look of deep concentration on Anakin’s face as he gets down to work. He had no intention to make the slave work for him, but things will go a lot faster if he gets out of his hair. He uses the opportunity to buy some real clothes that will fit Anakin, which he sets down on a crate when he hears the clanging coming from his ship.

Anakin is skilled, more skilled than his file and the attendant’s speech let him think. It’s a wonder he even became a sex-slave when he is that good with engines, a good mechanic is worth a lot on a planet like Tatooine, and Anakin is more than good, that much is obvious. He’s also covered in grease, red from working in the heat of the planet, sweat dripping down his mostly naked body. Jango notices far too late for his own comfort that he has taken most of his slave outfit off, putting it in a pile nearby, to work in the nude. Jango lets him put back the parts he took apart before making noise to attract his attention.

“It’s enough for today”, he says, “c’mon, I’ll get us some food, you should wash up.”  
“Yes, mas- Jango”, Anakin catches himself, seeing him wince.  
“Anakin”, he says, and he crouches. “I’m not a slaver. I’ve never been, and I’ll never be. I’m going to free you once we’re off this wretched planet, you can go and be whatever you want. You’d make a decent living as a mechanic.” He fumbles with his pouches. “Here, I should have given this to you far earlier.”

Anakin gapes as he hands him the remote to activate his chip, but snatches it up quickly. Within seconds, he has it deactivated, and he crushes the remote, before finally daring to look at Jango.

“I’m Free?”  
“You’re Free”, Jango replies, remembering his own disbelief when he realized he was no longer a slave – and he hadn’t been born in slavery like Anakin was. “Is there someplace you want to go?”

Anakin tugs on his blond curls, looking thoughtful.

“Anywhere but here”, he finally says, and Jango smiles.  
“Go on, shower, I’ll get you some warmer clothes for the night and the travel in space.”

He catches himself when his eyes linger on the long expanse of bare skin, but Anakin isn’t oblivious enough to not have noticed it. Still, the boy disappears, and Jango riffles through what little civilian clothes he has on board. Most of his clothes are on Kamino, since he wears his _beskar’gam_ outside. He finds a soft, large shirt and a long pair of pants that might fit the boy, and knocks on the door before opening and setting the clothes down, keeping his eyes averted.

Then, he gets to preparing some food, and doesn’t shy away from spices: he knows Tatooine cuisine, and slave recipes. Spices are part of it, Anakin will be used to what would burn the mouth of anyone else.

Anakin looks despairingly good in his clothes, fiddling with the cuffs when he sits at the makeshift table on a crate.

“Jango?” he asks, and he sounds shy.  
“Yes?” he replies, looking up.  
“Did they, uhm… do you have my drugs? The ones that keep my powers in check?”  
“They gave me two doses”, Jango replies. “You still have a few hours, don’t you?”

Anakin nods, and bites his lips, fingers clenching in his lap.

“I don’t want to get drugged again”, he says. “But if I don’t take it, I’ll get unbearably horny for three hours.”  
“I know”, Jango replies softly. “You can hole up in my room while it lasts, if you want. I don’t mind, and it’ll be safer for you.”  
“Thank you”, Anakin replies, fidgeting. “But I meant- Will you help me?”

Jango freezes. Surely Anakin doesn’t mean what he thinks he does.

“It- It really helps and I’d probably be fine with toys but- I don’t have any and-” he blushes, which shouldn’t be so endearing, “I’ve never had sex with someone because I wanted to”, he finally says. “I’d like to have sex with you. If- If you want.”  
“Anakin”, Jango says, trying to keep his cool. “You’re sure that’s what you really want?”

The boy sends him back a look of confusion.

“I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t want to?” he replies. “You’re good looking and actually _freed_ me.” He bites his lips. “Is it a big deal?”  
“Only if you want it to be”, Jango says carefully. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re offering.”

Anakin nods.

“I do.”  
“Then I will”, Jango promises, and Anakin tucks into his food.

Jango finds himself reeling from the whole exchange, but he eats all his food as well, before clearing out the makeshift table.

“We should get some sleep before you start to go through withdrawal”, he says, and Anakin nods.

Given what he just agreed to, Jango offers him to sleep with him in his bunk. He finds himself with the young man sprawled on top of him, because apparently he has no concept of boundaries – but, he has Anakin burrowing against him for warmth and it feels _good_. He’s also surprised by how quickly he falls asleep.

He gets shaken awake after too little time and blinks his eyes open to the sight of Anakin’s flushed face and bitten lips.

“Already?” he rasps, and the young man nods.  
“I didn’t know where you keep lube”, he says. “I should be open enough anyway-”

Jango stops him.

“I’m not fucking you”, he says, and Anakin recoils. “You’re fucking me.” His gaze softens. “You must be incredibly sore, and it should help anyway… or won’t it?”

Anakin gapes back at him, apparently floored by the concept.

“I- I don’t know?” he says. “I- I mean- I’ve only done it like that when I was loaned for breeding”, he says, blushing. “I’m not sure I’ll be any good like that.”

Jango aches for him, and he gently cups his face.

“Don’t you worry about that”, he says. “This is about you.”

Anakin takes a moment to mull over his words, and then nods shyly.

“Can I help open you up, then?”

Jango smiles.

“Yeah, of course. Here”, he says, opening a small compartment and pulling out the lube. “Condoms?” he asks, holding the packet up.

Anakin bites his lips thoughtfully, and then takes the packet, placing it down beside himself. Jango sheds his shirt off, and looks as Anakin’s eyes roam over him, clearly appreciative. They do stop, however, on the scars on his arms from a lashing. His fingers gently brush over them, but he doesn’t say anything. Swiftly, Jango removes his bottoms, underwear going with them, and he’s still soft but then, that’s easily remedied and-

He finds himself scrambling to grip at something when Anakin dives down and takes his cock in his mouth, suckling him and making him harden quickly and fill his mouth even more. His fingers ultimately grip into those soft blonde curls and Anakin moans around him, taking him down his throat. He moans, and moans again when deft, long fingers sink into him. He lets out a hiss, and Anakin pulls off with a worried look.

“Slow down a bit, I haven’t done this in a while. Need to relax.”

Anakin flushes a pretty red, and gentles his touch, letting Jango relax into him. He’s staring at where his fingers disappear in Jango’s body.

“You feel really soft on my fingers”, he says in quiet wonder, though he sounds a bit strained. His own cock is hard, leaking between his legs, and Jango can’t wait.  
“There, that’s enough- c’mon, take me”, he says, and Anakin is quick to obey, slowly sinking into him as he gasps, trying not to squirm as he is filled.

Anakin is panting over him, clearly fighting off his orgasm, and Jango gently caresses his face.

“Come, don’t wait. It’s not like you’ll make me wait long”, he jokes, and Anakin whines and curls inward, cock twitching inside him as he comes.

Jango swears – he’d forgotten how it felt, to me filled with wet warmth, to have his insides painted. He’d forgotten how much he loves it. But he cannot let himself come yet – he isn’t going through a violently horny withdrawal, and he isn’t a young man anymore. Anakin doesn’t take long to recover, his cock doesn’t even soften – he just resumes fucking him at a steady pace, and it feels _good_. Of course, that’s when Anakin shifts their position just _slightly_ and starts nailing his prostate on every thrust. Then, of course, Jango can’t contain his punched out noises, cock dribbling steadily onto his stomach, Anakin staring at him with blown pupils. The young man comes again, and this time Jango follows him, cum pooling onto his stomach as he breathes raggedly.

This time though, Anakin pulls out, breathing hard. His hands are trembling slightly and, as Jango contemplates falling asleep, Anakin grabs his hips and flips him over, making him moan into the pillow. Jango finds himself on his knees, elbows planted into the bunk, and getting filled by a hard cock once again.

He berates himself when his mind starts to drift to one of his guilty pleasure fantasy, one he rarely indulges, and he imagines himself on a breeding bench, legs held open as he gets fucked. Given Skywalker’s experience with being the penetrating partner, it is not one he should indulge in _now_. But his mind keeps drifting to it, to imagining himself fucked so full his stomach bulges, his hole leaks cum, and he is overstimulated.

Anakin makes a noise above him, and starts fucking him harder. Jango can only hold on, his cock hard again and brushing into the sheets with each hard thrust. He feels Anakin come again, and he is starting to feel very full, but the former slave doesn’t pull out, even as his cock starts to soften. A hand takes his cock and he wails, arching his back as he spills again, down on the bed. He falls back down, panting, exhausted.

Jango quickly loses track of time after he comes for the third time, heading into nearly painful overstimulation while Anakin fucks him again and again, making him come _dry_ , stomach bulging with how much he’s taken. He vaguely feels the marks of teeth and nails on his skin, knows they fucked like two rabid beasts. He falls asleep with Anakin sprawled on him, his hole leaking steadily, sore, his whole body painful.

It isn’t exactly much better when he wakes up after falling asleep, but his brain is back online. He’s a mess and there’s still lukewarm cum leaking out of him, though most of it dried on his skin. He’s not standing up any time soon, that’s for sure. He slowly turns his head: Anakin is looking at him. He looks like he’s done with withdrawal, and Jango finally realizes Anakin’s fingers are drawing gentle, idle patterns on his chest.

“Feeling better?”  
“I’d forgotten how it felt to have it”, Anakin whispers. “It’s like… finally taking off a blindfold.”

Jango hums.

“It wants me to come with you, wherever it is your going”, Anakin adds.

Good, good- wait, _what?_

“Absolutely not”, Jango replies.  
“Why not?” Anakin asks, lifting his head and looking at him. “You bought me. Gave me my freedom. I want to do the right thing and come with you.”  
“That’s not what was planned!”  
“You’re a Mandalorian”, Anakin points out. “Teach me how to fight, and I will be a useful partner. I didn’t say I would be a deadweight.”

It’s probably a terrible idea. He moves slightly, and is brutally reminded of his condition when his muscles twinge and another dribble of cum leaves his ass.

“Alright. We’ll see what we can make out of you”, he replies with a sigh, and the feeling that he’s going to regret it.

**Author's Note:**

> haar'chak: hell.


End file.
